I'm sitting outside in the shade, watching an eagle floating on the thermals high above the east ridge that defines - along with its twin to the west - our peaceful valley. Summer is in its fullness. I picked fresh blueberries last weekend; ate more than a few as I picked, froze some, scooped some into salads and on ice cream, shared some with Sophie who is pictured with me on the home page. After picking I stopped at Mama's Garden for freshly harvested potatoes, carrots and snap peas that went into my dish for a potluck last night. Blackberry vines are covered with lingering blossoms and ripening berries. Raspberries are done - this year's crop came enmasse, almost faster than they could be gathered. At the same time, some leaves on trees and bushes are already showing tinges of red and yellow. Mt. Baker highway was opened all the way to the top, more than 10,000 feet high, for the first time since October 2011, and kids in shorts and tank tops swarmed the slopes for summer skiing and sledding. Sophie and I went to town, walked the boardwalk on Bellingham Bay, watching two little girls pick up a beached starfish and toss it back into the tide.
The natural world is full in the Now. And while our physicality exists in the here and now, our thoughts, our emotions, are often in the past and future, in the fleeting moments and many facets of our lives. A glimpse into facets, here and now, forward and backward . . . . .
* kids coming of age: little boys and big boys, wresting, punching each other in the arm; their older sisters trying on clothes and makeup and hairstyles and personalities;
* a 30-something mom balancing the needs and directing summer activities of her little clan, wondering why she is always tired and if she will ever reclaim the titles of Photographer, Writer, Artist and Mommy;
* a "seeker" returning home to the starting point of a year long quest, still contemplating the answers and even more questions generated by the journey;
* a grandparent wondering how best to offer wisdom and support to adult children without being intrusive and depriving them of their "learning opportunities;"
* a teacher/counselor torn between two beloved places, commuting back and forth across the continent for work and rejuvenation;
* individuals setting aside time to care for an ageing parent, a declining partner, a dying child;
* travelers leaving the plains for a seaside getaway, leaving the seaside for the mountains, the mountains for the city . . . . . .
just thinking about the moments, the facets; no right or wrong, no preference, just noticing. Maybe we are forever nesters and seekers, doing and being, collecting and letting go. Fleeting, many faceted.